“Hmm?”
“There is something I should tell you. Something about Gretchen.”
Kylie froze. Her body went from a warm, boneless heap to a tight, rigid bundle of nerves. She wanted her warm and fuzzies back.
“Trace, whatever it is, let’s just not right now. Okay?”
This was their place, their private reunion , and no one else was invited. Damn sure not Gretchen Gibson.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “I guess I won’t ask about Rocker Boy either. Not that I even really want to know.”
Kylie took a deep breath. She’d hoped after tonight there wouldn’t be anyone else between them. But it looked like that might’ve been too much to hope for.
“He and I never did what you probably think we did.” She drew a heart with her pointer finger on Trace’s chest.
She felt him raise his head to look down at her. “Seriously? Never?”
“Nope. Not even once.”
“Huh.” She smiled as he relaxed beneath her. “Well now I feel kind of bad for slugging him.”
“Oh, I mean, we did stuff. Just not that.”
“And magically my remorse is gone.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. Boys.
A violent knock on the bus door startled them both.
“What the hell?” Trace sat up, and so did she. “I told everyone I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Trace! Trace, it’s Pauly. I need you to open up if you’re in there,” she heard Pauly Garrett yell from outside the bus between the pounding knocks. “It’s important.”
“Shit,” Trace mumbled as they pulled themselves from the warm bed. “What now?”
They dressed as quickly as they could. Kylie couldn’t find her underwear so she slid her jeans on over her bare skin. She located her bra but couldn’t find her shirt anywhere. Trace handed her his. She buttoned it hurriedly as they headed to the door.
“I hope everyone’s okay. What do you think is going on?”
“No idea,” Trace answered. “But there are cops out there.” He pulled back from the window and reached for the door. “You got warrants out, baby?”
She laughed. “Oh yeah. Tons.” But the smile fell from her face when she saw the grave expression on Pauly’s.
Kylie watched from behind Trace as Pauly introduced the two uniformed police officers.
“What’s going on?” he asked, pulling his white T-shirt on over his head.
His manager looked ten years older than usual. And Kylie suspected it wasn’t just because he’d been woken up in the middle of the night.
Something was wrong. Something bad. She’d been in this exact situation before, when they came to tell her and Darla that her dad had been killed. She didn’t know if the next words were actually spoken out loud or an echo from her memory.
“There’s been an accident.”
TRACE BARELY resisted the urge to throttle someone until he got some answers.
“What kind of accident? Who? Where?” He looked from Pauly to the uniformed officers next to him. He was vaguely aware of Kylie’s arms wrapping around his waist.
He didn’t have to ask if it was bad. That much he could tell from the grief etched in his manager’s features.
“Trace,” Pauly said evenly. “It’s Rae.”
The blood drained from his face to his toes instantly. A wounded sound came from beside him. Kylie’s body sagged forward. He was barely able to hold himself up, much less her. But he did the best he could.
“What happened to her? Goddammit, Pauly, tell me what the hell is going right this fucking minute.”
“She was in a car accident. I really think it’s better if you just—”
He opened his mouth to yell, but a small but firm hand on his chest stopped him.
“What condition is she in and where is she?” Kylie interrupted. “And how soon can we get there?”
A million thoughts ran through his head. None of which he could articulate. He was thankful that she could ask the right questions.
“She was with some friends. They were in a head-on collision in downtown Atlanta. She’s at Emory and she’s critical.”
“I have to go,” he said, charging forward, not knowing how he could get there but feeling like he could sprint the whole damn way if he had to.
“There’s a flight in the morning. I’ve booked you on the eight a.m. The officers are going to give you an escort to the airport and a car will meet—”
“How long would it take to drive?” Kylie asked.
“Around six to seven hours,” Pauly answered. “But she’s in surgery and they’ll be keeping her sedated so she won’t know you’re there until tom—”